


Mercutio's Rosetta Stone

by pyropinkfish



Category: Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare - Fandom
Genre: Eh not really much, M/M, and a fic from 2011, its just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1815760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropinkfish/pseuds/pyropinkfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very, and I mean very old fic. Like I'm talking 2011. Imported from my ff.net account since Shakespeare fics are popular with my girlfriend and my ff.net is embarrassing and needs to go. </p><p>Mercutio rants to Benvolio about the French people in Verona, and how they are annoying and what not. Much to Mercutio's dismay, Benvolio finds the French language quite attractive. What could Mercutio possibly do to impress his lover? He sets out to learn the language he hates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mercutio's Rosetta Stone

The sky was a pale blue, slowly turning into a dark shade, similar to that of a mulberry, from the light of the setting sun. Mercutio and Benvolio walked home to the Montague household in near silence. Benvolio was certainly not happy with Mercutio, who was just not in the best of moods. He knew that Benvolio had good reasons to be angry with him, sure, but he felt the frustration bubbling in him, and ignored any tinge of sadness that may have been there as well. The sound of crickets' songs followed them as they trudged in silence.

Benvolio's eyes crept up the other's shape, and settled on the deep gash on his shoulder. The bleeding had stopped, but the ring of drying blood had dyed his powder blue shirt like wine.

"When we get home you need to remove that shirt." Benvolio muttered, turning his gaze toward, which earned a chuckle from Mercutio.

"Should I give you my pants as well?" A light blush spread across the tanned one's face. His only response for the blond was a simple one.

"Shut up." The blond moved closer to his love, and held his hand in hopes of comforting him.

"It's not as bad as you think. Stop worrying, Ben," He was trying his hardest to calm down his shorter companion.

"I hate fighting."

"Oh really? But you know, my dear, the clashing of 'swords' could be called a fight of sorts!" Mercutio countered and grinned like a fool, which brought the light pink blush of Benvolio's to a darker shade.

"You're so…vulgar." Benvolio mumbled. The other grinned and nodded, and the conversation returned to the flow of a normal day.

The pair continued their walk as the sky darkened, and, as it did every day, the day turned to night. Once they'd returned to the Montague household, Mercutio's first action was to carefully pull his shirt over his head.

"W-what are you doing?" the brunette stuttered, trying not to ogle, and failing rather miserably.

"You SAID to take my shirt off once we got home. Do you not remember~?"

The blond grinned as he walked to the bedroom he normally shared with Benvolio, with his shirt in hand. Benvolio followed, and grabbed a cup of water on the way to his own room.

Mercutio sat down on the large bed, and held his shirt in his lap as he waited for his bedmate to begin his scolding. He simply couldn't help himself at the time, that Frenchman was simply horrid!

Benvolio silently came closer to Mercutio, and wet a clean cloth from the cup before gently placing it on the other's shoulder. He kept his eyes on his work, and made sure to clean the dried blood off carefully.

"You know, that Frenchman deserved it for all of that annoying "francy talk". We. Are. In. Italy. He came to OUR country, he should speak OUR language! I know they're insulting us! What the hell does "Bonjour" even mean? "Fuck you"? What sort of insult is that? Those damn men need to leave Verona with their wigs trailing in the mud! It's the latest fashion, Blah blah. I'll tell you, Frenchmen are disgusting! Who would wear a powdered wig? People with no hair!-" Mercutio fell into the familiar steps of his favorite pastime, which so happened to be "Rant until he could rant no more"

Benvolio started laughing after listening to about half of it. He took a moment to calm himself before going to look for bandages.

"You dislike like the French language? I must say, I find it rather attractive. It's such a soft and flowing way of speaking, and has such a romantic sound." Was all of more tanned of the two had to say as he wrapped the newly found gauze around the injury.

Mercutio paused, and sunk deep onto thought for a moment, before slowly looking up at the brunette.

"You find French appealing, do you?" to which Benvolio nodded.

"I do~"

Mercutio puzzled over that for a moment, and clearly showed it on his face. Benvolio laughed again as he finished off the wrappings around the noble's shoulder. Once he was done, he kissed the bandage gently before looking back up to Mercutio. The other was apparently feeling much better, as when they're eyes met he smirked and pulled Benvolio's face closer to his.

"What?" The shorter asked, and tilted his head just the tiniest bit.

"Oh, It's just an interesting little tidbit, that's all." The blond purred as he brought their lips together in a simple kiss.

Mercutio was the type who would always do his best to impress his love, and He'd just been given a wonderful opportunity, and planned on accepting the challenge that came with it. What could possibly be more impressive than learning that one wretched, but apparently romantic, language, French?


End file.
